by Tonya Brooks
He'd been a regular for a couple of weeks when she had asked, “Are you ever going to tell me your name?” When he'd stared at her blankly, she had gestured to the pen and cup she held. Those blue eyes had sparkled mischievously, and she'd said, “Or I can just keep calling you Really Hot Guy.”
That was when Reece realized that she didn't know who he was. His face was splashed over the media often enough that people recognized him on sight. Especially women. Yet this one didn't have a clue that she'd been casually flirting with Reece Lassiter the multi-billionaire. She just thought he was a really hot guy.
The realization was totally liberating.
Never in his adult life had he had the opportunity to just be a regular guy. Every woman he'd dated had known who he was and how much he was worth. His innate mistrust of women had become even more jaded because he'd never known which had the greater appeal, him or his money. Now he had the opportunity to find out and a date with the stunning cashier would be no hardship.
“Join me for coffee and I'll tell you,” he'd offered and flashed her a dazzling smile.
Her beautiful smile had grown even brighter as she'd leaned toward him and whispered, “Don't tell the boss, but… I don't like coffee.”
He had laughed in genuine amusement and quickly suggested, “Then how about lunch?”
“It would have to be a late lunch,” she responded. “My shift doesn't end until one.”
“Tomorrow at one?” He suggested because there was no way he could clear his calendar that day on such short notice.
“It's a date.”
The first thing that Reece did when he got to his office was instruct his assistant to clear his calendar for the next afternoon. He had a feeling that lunch was going to run over into dinner, and he sincerely hoped, breakfast as well. He was practically giddy with anticipation and carefully planned the sort of date that he assumed a regular guy would, with the help of his very amused assistant.
The next day, he had arrived bearing a huge wicker picnic basket filled with delicacies from his favorite deli and a bottle of wine that would have never made it into his collection. Though his assistant had assured him it was quite good and something a regular working-class stiff would be able to afford. He'd sampled a second bottle beforehand and though it wasn't something his educated palate cared for, it wasn't rotgut either.
Since the coffee shop was directly across the street from Central Park, his assistant had convinced him that a nice relaxing picnic where they could just talk and get to know each other would be perfect. Because it was a highly-populated area and the middle of the afternoon, it should be safe enough. After dark, there were no guarantees.
His penthouse overlooked the park and in all the years that he had lived there, Reece had never once ventured into it. He loved the view but dealing with nature, not so much. However, his assistant had also assured him the idea had a romantic flair that any woman who didn't use the word summer as a verb would enjoy. That had sealed the deal.
She'd been waiting for him casually dressed in a pair of jeans that showed off those long luscious legs and a sweater molded to her gorgeous breasts. Thoughts of peeling them off of her had him harder than the concrete under their feet. “I haven't been on a picnic in years,” she said and looked delighted at the prospect.
“I've never done it,” he had admitted with a sheepish smile and hooked her hand through his elbow to lead her across the congested street and into the park.
Once she had selected a spot, he spread out the traditional red checkered table cloth, and they sat cross-legged facing each other with the basket between them. “I'm not sure of proper picnic etiquette,” he admitted regretfully.
“Then allow me to do the honors,” she had said as she shifted the basket to the side and began neatly arranging the contents between them. She had oohed and ahhed over his selections and some of the tension began to leave his shoulders. Reece couldn't believe that he was more concerned over how she would react to a picnic than he was about planning a hostile takeover.
“You still haven't told me your name,” she reminded him with a simply adorable impish smile.
“It's Reece,” he'd confessed and hoped she didn't press for a last name, though he had several that he could give her if she did. Sadly, he had forged birth certificates for all of them, but none were legitimate except the name he'd used since he was twelve. “And you're Joey.”
“Not really,” she had denied and grinned at his perplexed look. “My boss is hearing impaired, so my name tag is wrong. He's such a sweetheart that I didn't have the heart to tell him.”
Was she for real? Reece knew women who would go into complete histrionics if someone mispronounced their name, but this woman hadn't complained that her name tag was wrong because she didn't want to hurt her boss's feelings. Holy hell. She really was as sweet and genuine as she seemed, and he was completely intrigued.
“Are you going to tell me your name?” He queried.
“It's Jolie, hence the name tag that reads Joey,” she explained.
Jolie was French for pretty. Had this been a typical society date, Reece would have informed her that she was too stunning to simply be called pretty. Magnifique came to mind because she was magnificent. From the brilliance of her smile to the glorious mane of curls shimmering like rays of gold across her shoulders, she glowed as bright as sunshine.
They laughed and talked and time passed without notice for either of them. He was enthralled by her natural beauty, ensnared by her innate sweetness, and addicted to those brilliant smiles. When Jolie shivered, he noticed that the sun had sunk behind the trees and realized that it was almost six o'clock. “Have dinner with me,” he invited and did not want their date to end.
Jolie glanced at her watch and her eyes rounded in surprise at the time. “I can't. I'm going to be late like it is.”
“You have a date?” He queried and his hackles rose at the thought. She had awakened something possessive inside of him, and he did not intend to share her with anyone else.
“No, a rehearsal,” she explained as she hastily placed the empty wine bottle and glasses back in the basket.
“What are you rehearsing?” Reece asked as he stood when she did, anxious to know everything about her.
“I landed a role as a dancer in an off-Broadway version of Beauty and the Beast,” Jolie replied with a self-deprecating smile as she lifted the tablecloth and shook it to remove debris.
“With those legs, I should have known,” he teased and loved the blush that lit her cheeks.
She quickly folded the cloth as she playfully responded, “When I become a star on Broadway, you can tell people that you knew me when I was no one.”
Reece took her hand and held it in his to still her movements. When she glanced up at him questioningly, he assured her, “You could never be no one, Jolie. You're too special to ever be considered insignificant.”
Her eyes had softened, and she favored him with the warmth of her smile as she squeezed his hand gently. “Thank you, Reece. For the lovely compliment and a wonderful afternoon.”
“I want to see you again,” he admitted as he closed the distance between them. She tilted her head back to look up at him, and he realized that she was the perfect height for kissing. God, how he wanted to taste the sunshine of her smile.
“I'd like that,” Jolie had agreed.
“Tomorrow night?”
“Alright. You fed me lunch so it's only fair that I cook you dinner,” she suggested.
“You cook?” He asked in amazement and had never had a woman offer to cook for him before. Her chef perhaps, but never herself.
“My mother was French. Of course, I cook,” she had laughingly assured him.
“It's a date,” he agreed. Unable to stop himself, he had feathered his lips over hers in a kiss as chaste as it was reverent. There was something so special about her, and from that day forward, he'd been hopelessly lost in Jolie and had basked in the sunlight she brought into his cold, ba
rren life.
And now she was back in his life again, but her sunlight had turned to darkness. Her joy had been crushed by despair. Bitterness had taken the place of the love she had once lavished on him so freely. Reece was a selfish bastard who didn't deserve her, had never deserved her. Even knowing that, he still could not make himself let her go again.
Because without her, he was nothing.
Jolie
Jolie woke with a start and sat up looking around the room in disbelief. Oh, hell. It hadn't been a dream. She really was in Reece's penthouse. She might have been too wrung out to give him hell last night, but that was about to change. If he wanted a relationship with her son, then he was going to have to play by her rules.
Entering the living area, the aroma of coffee assailed her nostrils and led her directly into the kitchen. Reece was standing at the counter pouring himself a cup with one hand, his phone in the other as he barked out orders like a drill sergeant. The scene was so reminiscent of the past that her heart ached in remembrance.
When they were married, she would have walked up behind him, slid her arms around his lean waist, laid her head against his shoulder, and just enjoyed holding him. When he finished the call, he would have turned around and kissed her until they were both panting for more. Dammit. She had to stop remembering these ridiculous things.
Like how passionately he had kissed her. The way he had looked at her like she was the only woman in the world. Until the day he'd turned on her. Then his turquoise eyes had been as cold and hard as the stones they resembled. Exactly like his heart. Yes. That was what she needed to remember, what she needed to focus on until the issue of their son was settled.
“I don't have all day, Reece,” she snapped as she walked over to the refrigerator and removed a container of orange pineapple juice. Her son had inherited his love of that particular flavor combination from his father as it was Reece's favorite as well. He handed her a glass as he finished his conversation and ended the call.
“Morning, Sunshine.”
“I told you not to call me that,” Jolie reminded him irritably as she poured juice in the glass.
“Ouch. Not a morning person anymore?” He queried and lifted the cup to sip his coffee.
“Not since I started working nights,” she said sweetly, and he choked on the coffee. Deciding that tormenting him was too much fun to resist, she added, “You know, normally when a wealthy man picks a stripper up and takes her home with him, the last thing he's interested in is talking.”
Reece
Reece had not needed a reminder of what she did at night and the insinuation that she also engaged in prostitution set his temper on edge. After he had coughed the fluid out of his lungs, he growled, “That wasn't funny, Jolie.”
She gave him a death glare and snapped, “No, it's a fact of life.”
Jesus!
He wasn't about to touch that one. He'd lose his mind if he thought for one minute that Jolie had sold her body. The body that he'd pay any price to have in his bed permanently. He needed to be rational for their discussion, so Reece forced himself to ask calmly, “Would you please stop trying to provoke me, so we can continue our conversation?”
“Anything to get it over with,” Jolie said in exasperation as she opened the refrigerator and started removing items.
“What are you doing?”
“I'm hungry.”
“I can order…”
“I'd prefer to make my own omelet if you don't mind,” she refused the offer he'd been making as she shoved the door closed with her hip and began placing the items on the island. The thought of one of her omelet's had him salivating. Jolie really was an amazing cook.
“Can I help?” Reece offered and his mind flashed back to memories of when she had tried to teach him to cook, and they'd wound up making love instead. Images of Jolie bent over the countertop while he took her from behind, of her sitting atop the stove or pressed up against the refrigerator with him buried so deep inside her that they had seemed to be one.
Their eyes connected, and he saw the desire in hers before she quickly looked away. Yeah, she'd been remembering, too. “You'd just get in the way,” she responded and began preparing the ingredients.
Reece moved to the other side of the island and adjusted the steel rod in his jeans before he sat on a stool. He'd forgotten how being around Jolie had kept him in a perpetual state of arousal. Keeping his hands off of her was going to be a bitch. That was another reason why they needed to get this shit sorted out as soon as possible. Celibacy sucked.
“You're not talking,” she pointed out.
“I thought I'd wait until I had your full attention.”
“I can multi-task,” Jolie said dryly. “Start talking.”
His mind cataloged all of the things they had discussed the night before and everything that still hadn't been said. Just to be on the safe side, he decided to do a re-cap of their last conversation. “Do you understand why I reacted the way I did?” Reece queried.
“Yes and no,” she responded as she turned to pour something into the frying pan.
“Could you elaborate on that?” He asked and wanted there to be no misunderstandings left between them.
“Your mother warped your perception of women so you didn't trust me when I told you something that you believed was impossible,” Jolie summarized succinctly. “A man without mommy issues would have assumed something had gone wrong with the procedure and had a test done to confirm it instead of accusing his wife of being unfaithful.”
Reece grimaced because she was exactly right. On every detail. He'd overreacted and behaved like a lunatic. All because his mother had been a first-class bitch. “You're right,” he admitted in a tone laden with grief. “I was a fucking fool.”
Jolie eyed him over her shoulder and must have decided to be charitable because she didn't rub it in. “So, yes, I get it. No, it doesn't excuse your appalling behavior," she explained.
“Can you ever forgive me?” Reece asked through a throat constricted with pain.
“No.” Blunt, direct, complete denial. There was no room for compromise in her tone. No possibility of a reconciliation. His hope for a future with Jolie crashed and burned while Reece died a fiery death inside. He dropped his face into his hands and fought the tears that were choking him.
Jolie
The man sitting behind her was not the Reece Lassiter she had known. The man she had married had been sweet and charming, loving, and playful, and he had seemed to cherish her above all else. The man who had thrown her out had been cold, hard, and implacable, the ruthless businessman who could make or break corporations with one phone call.
The man at the island just looked… broken.
Jolie knew that look all too well. She'd seen it in her reflection every day for the last four years. Some dark corner of her soul cheered at his misery, but the part of her that had once loved him commiserated with his pain. Now that she understood why he had turned into a monster, it wasn't quite as easy to hate him as it had been the day before.
She cut a portion of the massive omelet for herself, leaving the largest piece for him, and slid it onto plates. Turning, her heart felt a pang of sympathy for Reece. His head was bowed and clasped in his hands and even the set of those broad shoulders looked dejected. Yeah, he was suffering, and she didn't enjoy seeing it like she had thought she would.
Sliding a plate in front of him, she refilled his coffee cup and sat down beside him at the island. Deciding to try using this time to hash out the past might be painful, but it looked like they both needed it. Maybe they could finally begin to put the pain behind them and get on with their lives. Hell, it was worth a shot anyway.
“You broke my heart, Reece,” Jolie said quietly as she picked at her food, her appetite suddenly gone. “I thought you loved me and I couldn't understand how you could just turn on me like that. You didn't even give me a chance.” Her heart stuttered when he lifted his head and those turquoise eyes were filled with unshe
d tears.
“Jolie, you were the first woman that I'd ever trusted,” he admitted somberly. “The only woman I'd ever loved. When I thought you'd betrayed me, I… I went insane. There's no other word for it. I just lost my fucking mind.”
Yeah, he'd been completely over the edge alright. She had actually been frightened when he'd grabbed her and hauled her to the door. “You looked like you wanted to kill me,” she admitted.
He lifted his hand and gently trailed the back of one finger down her cheek. “I have a vicious temper, Jolie, but even insane I could never hurt you physically,” Reece confessed. “I wish I'd never hurt you at all.”
“So do I,” she admitted honestly and turned away from his touch. Dammit, he was getting to her. Allowing herself to feel anything but hatred for her ex would be a huge mistake, and she knew it. The man had shattered her heart, destroyed her life, and turned his back on their child. He didn't deserve her sympathy.
“Then why did you keep on hurting me?” Jolie demanded angrily. “Did you really hate me that much?”
“I don't understand,” he replied, frown lines marring his forehead.
She gave him a look of patent disbelief. “You kept sabotaging everything I did.”
“I did not.”
He was really starting to piss her off again. “Come on, Reece. We're clearing the air, remember? Don't pretend you didn't intentionally ruin my life to punish me.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Reece
Reece looked shocked. Hell, he was shocked. “Jolie, I have no idea what you're talking about,” he denied. “What is it that I'm supposed to have done?”
She folded her arms over her chest and gave him a scathing look. “So you deny having the bank foreclose on Mr. Talbert's loan?”
